Simply Roses
by Sheik83
Summary: Transfers arrive at Hogwarts. The year is destined to be quite entertaining, with the constantly clashing and high-strung personalities of the newcomers, but what’s the big plot behind their arrival? Could it have something to do with Sirius Black?
1. Just Lilacs

**Summary**: Transfers arrive at Hogwarts for reasons known only to Albus Dumbledore. The year is destined to be quite entertaining, with the constantly clashing and high-strung personalities of the newcomers, but what's the big plot behind their arrival? Could it have something to do with the DADA teacher, or possibly Sirius Black?

**Disclaimer**: HP doesn't belong to me. Nor do Kari, Popurii, General Ayre and Roka. Olive, her mother and her siblings are mine.

**Warnings**: OOTP spoilers and possibly a bit of language, but that's about it.

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**Simply Roses**

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**Chapter I: Just Lilacs**

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_12 Grimmauld Place___

It was the summer after Ron and Hermione's fifth year at Hogwarts. They were at 12 Grimmauld Place, just like the summer before, but the mood wasn't the same. With Sirius gone the place felt almost . . . dead. True, the Order was still holding meetings, but . . . it wasn't the same. 

At the moment Ron, Ginny and Hermione were patiently waiting the arrival of Harry. Once again he was being brought by the advance guard. 

"Where _are_ they?!"

. . . Alright, so 'patiently' wasn't the word for it. 

"Ron," Ginny cooed, "just calm down. They're bound to be here any second." 

"Mum said they'd be here a quarter of an hour ago!" Ron said frustratedly.

Hermione sighed inwardly. "Ginny's right," She added calmly, "calm down."

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but having nothing good to say, closed it sharply. Still fuming from the ears, the youngest Weasley boy settled himself down in a chair. The three sat in silence for a few moments. Hermione and Ginny were relishing the silence, while Ron became quite bothered. It wasn't long before Ron spoke up again. This time he wasn't yelling. In fact, it was quite far off the subject of Harry and the advance guard. "I'm hungry."

Yes, quite far off.

"Well Ron," Hermione stated as she got up from her chair, "let's go down to the kitchen. We can grab something there."  

* * *

_Somewhere in Magical __England___

            Popurii Longbottom sighed as the wind played through her long black locks. How she enjoyed flying! She tightened her grip around the neck of the beast she was riding ever so slightly and motioned for it to start to descend. The creature in return snorted and flew downward. 

            As the creature's hooves met the ground Popurii slid off. Slowly, she petted the creature's snout-like nose. "Good Junpei!" She cooed. Unknown to her, she had landed in front of a home. The residents of the home had noticed her.

            "Popurii? You're here already!" 

            Popurii looked up from petting Junpei. A look of recognition passed over her face and she smiled. "Neville! Look, I brought Junpei."

            Neville Longbottom stared at Junpei for a moment before paling. "P-Popurii? Y-you brought a thestral?"

* * *

_Hogsmeade___

It was a dreary, rainy day in Hogsmeade. The rain was coming down so hard. A young fourteen year old American was walking the magical community's streets, his jacket over his head and map in hand. "Where is it? It _has_ to be here somewhere," he whispered desperately to himself, "come _on_ Roka. It's here. The map says so."

After wandering Hogsmeade's streets for what felt like an hour for him, Roka finally found his destination. Wearily, the brunette looked back down to the map in his hands. Back up. Back down. "Please," Roka said in a terror stricken voice, "tell me that's _not_ where I'm staying."

Unfortunately for the young boy, it was. The dreary, small, rundown, and no-doubt haunted 'hotel' in front of him was _exactly_ where he'd be staying. That is until the school year. That would start in, oh let's say, _one month_.

As Roka shook himself from his daze he could only think one thing: _never_ trust a house elf to make arrangements.

* * *

_Somewhere in Muggle __England___

Sixteen year old Kari Mclallen shifted uncomfortably in the back seat of her parents' car. She had always tried to avoid using muggle transportation, preferring floo powder. Her aunt and uncle (with whom she'd be staying with) were muggles unfortunately.

Kari gazed somewhat fearfully out the window. When would they be there? It was taking a _very _long time to drive to her aunt and uncle's place. The airport (the ride was something she'd rather _not _comment on) wasn't _that _far way. If they didn't get there soon she'd either loose her mind or jump out of the car and run the rest of the way in the rain, and truthfully, Kari would rather walk in the rain and mud than in ride the muggle contraption. Unfortunately for Kari, her elder brother Eric and her elder sister were sitting on either side of her and she _knew_ she couldn't get past them . . . so, she'd have to settle for loosing her mind.

Luckily for Kari's sanity the little red automobile had reached its destination.

* * *

_Hogwarts_

The wheels of the thestral-drawn carriage creaked as the carriage rolled along towards the Hogwarts castle. The rain had made the path muddy, and the thestrals' hooves and legs were covered in the muck. 

            The carriage ground to a halt. The door swung open and out stepped an old woman. She looked young for her age; her hair was a burnt brick black worn in kiln scorched curls and beady shamrock green eyes danced in good humor. She could have passed for younger, had she not held wrinkles on her face. 

            The woman pushed a lock of hair from her face as she gazed up at the castle. Her eyes fell upon a familiar figure standing in the doorway of the large double doors, her expression brightened.

"Long time no see, old friend"

The old woman smiled warmly at the familiar voice. "Yes, long time no see, Albus."

* * *

**A/N**: This was the first chapter of _Simply Roses_! Please tell me what you think. 


	2. Merely Buttercups

**A/N: **I'm ba~ack. 

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hp. Nor do I own Kari, her family, Roka, his family, Popurii, Junpei, or General Ayre (did I forget any one?). Olive is mine!

**Simply Roses**

**Chapter II: Merely Buttercups**

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_The Creepy, Scary and Possibly Haunted Hotel – Room Seventeen_

The door of Roka's hotel room creaked shut. He'd arrived. He'd _finally _arrived. No, really the creepy hotel was a _lot_ larger than first expected. Each floor held only _one_ room, and _his_ room just_ had_ to be room 17, the last room. To top it off, all the rooms were underground . . . joy.

So, first Roka had to check in with the not-exactly-polite lady at the front desk. The experience didn't give him the best impression of the place. After that Roka had walked down flights upon flights of staircase. He'd passed all of the other rooms, catching bits of and pieces of conversations from the other side of the doors, before finally reaching his room.

            The room was, although still creepy and holding a haunted air, well kept. The walls were covered in old floral wallpaper, and the single twin bed was under the window that mimicked the rainy weather outside. 

            It quickly registered to Roka that the family owl, a great gray, was perched on the bedside table. "Hello Lida, what do you have for me?" The owl hooted and stuck out her leg, allowing the young American to untie the message from her leg. Roka glanced at the envelope, recognized the writing as his mother's and tossed it aside. He'd read his mother's worries later. At that moment he was more interested in sleeping.

* * *

_12 Grimmauld Place___

            "Are you sure about this George?" Fred asked his twin as they peered out at their anxiously waiting parents.

            "Of course I'm sure, extendable ears never lie." George said certainly. "Mum said Aunt Agate and Uncle Ailin are going to be here tonight!" 

            "Why'd they come all the way to England?"

            George glanced at Fred out of the corner of his eye. "The Order, what else?"

            "But from Ireland? Come off it." Fred said disbelieving.

            Before George could reply, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had both fell silent from their restless chatter. The twins turned their gaze to match their parents. Their eyes fell upon tall and brunette uncle Ailin and fair red haired aunt Agate. Carefully the two made their way out of their hiding spot. If they were lucky they'd be able to make it seem like they had casually walked in on this.

            Apparently today _wasn't_ the twins' lucky day.

            "Fred, George, what are you up to?" 

            The two winced. "Ah – what are you talking about, we're doing nothing, nothing at all." Fred said, quickly trying to explain.

            "Don't lie; you've been there the whole time haven't you?" Molly Weasley asked.

            "Ah . . ."

            "Molly, it's alright. It's not like we're doing anything they can't know about." Ailin said in a soft Irish accent.

            Molly sighed. "I know, you just never know what they're up to these days." With that, she turned and left for the kitchens.

            "Could you two help Olive with her luggage please?" Agate asked the twins.

            "Who?"

            "Olive," Agate explained, "My young niece. She and her brother and sister will be attending Hogwarts with Ron and Ginny for the next couple of years."

* * *

**A/N:** Today's chapter is the result of listening _way_ too much to "Give a Reason". (Cookies to those that can identify the anime series that's from)

Sorry it's so short; I'm doing what I can.

Thank you to my otousan for the idea of the floral wallpaper on the hotel rooms walls!

Thank you to those that reviewed! You give me the encouragement to write more!


	3. Purely Geramium

**A/N: **. . . ^^ Back again!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP, Kari, Popurii, Ayre or Roka.

**Simply Roses**

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**Chapter II: Purely Geranium**

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_The McLallen Residence_

The pleasant sound of a violin filled the muggle household. It was a sad, smooth tune that tugged at the hearts of a couple of those listening. The two elder McLallen children hummed nonchalantly with the melody as they worked vigorously on their summer break homework. 

Kari . . . wasn't paying attention at all. Instead she was scratching her cat, Nova, behind the ears, daydreaming. The tune was softly fading away, the young witch barely aware of it. A chatter arose between the adults, most likely talking of her uncle's police work or her father's music. Kari's mind was far, far away, in her home in Scotland. She wondered vaguely if the sheep were doing alright, and if they'd get enough to eat. In the distance of her mind Kari could hear her father and uncle conversing.

"Wonderful, David, wonderful," She heard her uncle say to her father, "I haven't heard a song so sad since the funeral of Peter Pettigrew."

"I take that as a compliment." That was her father. "Speaking of, have you caught Black yet?"

"No, not quite yet. We haven't had anything since a year or two ago . . ."

"Keep me informed will you?"

"But of course . . ."

And that was when Kari's daydream faded into an afternoon nap.****

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* * *

_The Longbottom Residence_

"Popurii, you can _not_ keep him here!" Neville stated pointing a finger at Junpei. "Gran said he had to go!"

"But cuz . . . he's _my _pet. Anyways, Junpei's harmless. Aren't you Junpei?" The thestral snorted. Though it was hard to distinguish if it was an agreeing snort or not, Popurii brightened. "See?" Neville just blinked, and Trevor, who was somewhere under the couch, croaked. Popurii brightened more. "Even Trevor thinks so!" 

            Neville sighed. "Well," he started, slightly unsure, "I guess-"

            Popurii squealed and pulled her cousin into a tight hug. "I knew you'd let me!"

            The poor Longbottom boy cringed as his cousin's hug tightened. "Popurii," he gasped, "please let go."

* * *

**A/N: **So~o sorry. Chapters are going to be short until further notice. 

Psycho-Aki (shall I call you this now?) – Three cookies to you ^^; two cookies for telling me the series of the song and a third for allowing me to borrow your Frying Pan of DOOM. *evil cackle* Oh Ro~oka.


	4. But Crocus

**A/N:** . . . and Olive ARRIVES! Yep, yep.

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**Disclaimer:** Need I say it again? I don't own Kari, Roka, Popurii, Ayre or HP . . . 

**Simply Roses**

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**Chapter IV: But Crocus**

_12 Grimmauld Place___

"Really?" Fred said to his aunt, "but I didn't think Hogwarts accepted transfers."

Agate just smiled. Instead, Ailin gave an answer. "Well," he said, "since Agate and I are doing – ah – _services_ for the Order, Dumbledore made an exception."

The twins seemed to except this explanation and turned to the door. Then, at that moment –

"Aunt Agate! Uncle Ailin!"

"Ginny, how are you?" Agate cooed as she petted Ginny on the head. The Weasley girl beamed. "You've certainly grown. Last time I saw you, you were only ten. And Ron, you were gone at Hogwarts when I last visited. My, you've grown as well." 

Ron flushed in slight irritation as his aunt petted him on the head. He swallowed the bit of pastry in his mouth and murmured, "Yah, I'm taller then Fred and George now."

"But he'll still be our _little_ brother." Fred grinned as his younger sibling glared at him.

"Um," Hermione began hesitantly, "Miss ah-"

"-Agate. And what's your name?"

"Hermione Granger." She said. "You mentioned something about transfers. _Hogwarts: A History_ says that Hogwarts hasn't accepted transfers for over one hundred years. The Ministry made it a law in 1880."

"We already explained it to Fred and George. I suppose you overheard; Dumbledore has made an exception for our services."

            "But there would have to be a good reason or else-" Hermione started.

            "Quite frankly, Miss Granger, it isn't your business." Ailin said. Hermione frowned at his blunt rudeness.

Deciding it was best to change the subject, Ginny asked, "What kind of services are you doing Aunt Agate?"

Agate laughed. "Well aren't you the curious one. Ailin and I were doing international communication with Ireland and the Order. Though, that's not really needed now seeing how the Ministry here in England has accepted the fact that You-Know-Who has returned. We've been repositioned here to do some indirect work with Jaye, Ange and Olive's parents."

Fred and George perked up. Both had completely forgotten that their aunt had asked them a favor. "So~o who _are_ their parents?" Fred questioned.

Their aunt thought for a moment. "I've only met them a couple of times briefly, their mother is Ailin's sister see, not my blood relatives and they're always up and about, but I'm sure that their mother's name is Sheila. Their father's been in England for quite some time actually, last year and two or so years before. His name was, it think-"

"Aunty, Uncle," Interrupted a new voice, thick with an Irish accent, "can't you help me?"

George, who was nearest to the new comer, jumped. The arrival was a young girl, about Ginny's age or younger, with a brown hat on top of curly strawberry blonde hair, lugging a suitcase about half her size behind her. "Olive-dear," Ailin said, taking the suitcase from the little girl, "let me take that." Olive murmured something that sounded like a "thanks" as Ailin removed the luggage from her care. 

Fred and George glanced at each other with identical grins. "So you're Olive huh?" The girl nodded. 

"Glad to meet 'chya!" They both shook Olive's hand at the same time. The girl was petrified, gray eyes wide, hat fallen off her strawberry blonde hair. 

"Um, hi." She managed to squeak.

"Boys, let the poor girl go before you traumatize her." – Molly Weasley was back.

The twins let go of the Irish girls hand and turned to gaze at their mother innocently. "Mum, what a pleasant surprise."

Molly frowned. "Go clean up for dinner." Grudgingly, they did as they were told. 

"Um, you're Molly Weasley right?" Olive asked softly.

"Yes, that's right." 

"There's a boy out there with a scary looking man with a blue eye, a witch with pink hair, and a couple of other people. The man with the eye requested to see you." She told Molly. 

"Harry's here?!" Ron asked excitedly. Olive nodded, and Ron nearly leapt into the air. "_Finally_, it was getting so dull around here!" At a piercing look from Hermione, Ron's grin vanished. "I'm not saying you're not fun, Hermione, but you've got to admit it's a tad dull here without Harry." Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"The boy didn't look as if he'd brighten the place up at all," Olive said, directing her comment at Ron. "Because Jaye and Ange were too busy arguing to help me out I got a good look at the boy; he looked depressed."

* * *

_A week later – 12 Grimmauld Place_

Exactly as Olive had said, Harry's arrival seemed to only make 12 Grimmauld Place more depressing. He stayed in his room all day, only coming down for meals, which he only ate less than half of. Ron and Hermione had tried to cheer him up, but to no avail. Sirius's death had seemed to nearly completely clam their friend up. All they'd get him to say was "Hello Ron", or "Hello Hermione". None of Fred and George's jokes even got a chuckle out of Harry. No one had a clue what would make Harry smile anymore . . .

            A week after Harry's arrival, Hermione woke up early. She was thirsty and decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she passed the ancestors of Kreacher, she wondered vaguely what it would have been like if Kreacher hadn't blabbed to Voldemort about Sirius. Would he still be alive? Would Harry be smiling? In the back of her head she concluded that the outcome of their fifth year would have been _much_ better. 

            When she arrived at the kitchen, Hermione noticed Mrs. Weasley was awake as well. She was dressed as though she was about to leave and was holding what appeared to be their Hogwarts letters they'd received the day before. She was also placing a meticulously wrapped sandwich carefully into her purse. "Are you going to Diagon Alley, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked. 

             "Yes, yes I'm getting your school things." Mrs. Weasley said .

            Hermione passed Mrs. Weasley and poured herself a glass of water. Before she took a sip she remembered something. "Mrs. Weasley, can I go with you? I wanted to by myself a book from Flourish and Blots."

            "But of course! Hurry up and get dressed though."

            Hermione grinned and rushed out of the kitchen, pausing only to thank Mrs. Weasley.

* * *

_Creepy, Scary, Possibly Haunted Hotel – Main Lobby_

            Roka had woken early. At a letter from Hogwarts and his mother, Roka was influenced into shopping for his school things. He had decided that it was best to do it earlier than later. That is, best for the owls. If his mother sent anymore letters, the poor great gray would probably collapse from exhaustion. Maybe, just maybe jumping into action would slow his mother.

            Being so caught up in thought, Roka failed to pay attention to where he was walking . . .

            . . . and ran straight into the wall. 

            "Ouch." Roka moaned, feeling his nose for bruises. "Just my luck."

            "Are you alright young man?" asked someone from behind him.

            Roka groggily turned to look at the speaker. It was an old man, short, with unkempt wiry aged hair. Most identifying were his golden cat like eyes. "Who are you?" He asked, noting the rude tone in his voice. 

            The man seemed not to notice how rude the statement was, as he answered quite cheerfully. "I'm the manager."

            Roka twitched.  A creepy hotel manger, in a creepy hotel; purrrrrrrfect.

            The young American slowly backed away, muttered an "I'm alright" and rushed off to the fireplace.

* * *

_Flourish and Blots _

            Hermione skimmed the shelves of books carefully looking for the book. "No, that's not it. I'm in the right section, it should be here." Hermione muttered under her breath. It didn't appear they had anymore of the book she was looking for. She shifted the weight of her school books in her arms and set off to the other side of the store. Next year maybe . . .

            Hermione peered around her pile of books to make sure she was headed in the right direction. There was another boy, about her age heading straight for her. For this boy, books too were piled above his head. Hermione halted and called to the boy. "Hey, watch out!"

            Too late, they'd collided.

            "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

* * *

**A/N:** . . . hello? Is anyone there at this untimely hour . . . wait it's a Saturday. Scratch that, how you all doing? I'm a tad tired right now, seeing how I spent all day on this chapter. Appreciate it please, and review.


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